


Of Suspicions and Strays

by Legendaerie



Series: Spell It Out [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Hufflepuff!York, Slytherin!Carolina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendaerie/pseuds/Legendaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolina has a perfectly healthy rivalry going on, thank you, and North can mind his own business.</p><p>(set around fourth year)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Suspicions and Strays

**Author's Note:**

> i made a harry potter au. fuck.
> 
> anyway, i'll just post one-shots in this universe as it pleases me. or as the inspiration (read: crippling fear of the oblivion of death combines with my creativity and lack of energy to create entirely original work) strikes.
> 
> comments, prompts, etc. are always welcome.

Carolina trots down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, head still buzzing with all the new formulas she needs to memorize for Potions tomorrow. It’s one of the few classes she shares with that persistent little Hufflepuff York, and the only one where he keeps edging her out.  She knows she’s probably taking their rivalry way too seriously - North keeps giving her these long-suffering looks, mouth pressed in a thin line no doubt to stop a hundred disapproving words from flooding out - but she also can’t help it. There’s something about York that just makes her want to one-up him right back, keep up this self-feeding cycle of competition going, and so they’re nearly always flipping back and forth between the highest grades in their shared classes. **  
**

She’s startled out of her thoughts at the sight of the sturdy, brown-haired fourth year lounging at the base of the stairs, his black-and-gold scarf bright with defiance. Definitions of ingredients fly out of Carolina’s head, and she takes in a sharp breath. Speak of the devil. Or at least, think of him.

York looks up and to the side then, catching her in the act of self-consciously fixing her low, sloppy ponytail; she fights down a hot blush of shame and leaves her appearance as is. No shame in being a little messy while studying. “Hey,” he calls, his smile warm and sunshine gold like his scarf, very obviously pleased.

“Hi,” she replies carefully, trotting down the stairs and feelings his eyes on her with every movement. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting on North,” and he shifts back into leaning against the wall, smile fading until it’s just in his eyes, lingering. “We’re supposed to go into the Forest together and look for signs of Unicorns for our Magical Beasts homework.”

Carolina tries and fails to completely squash the flicker of something hot and insidious like betrayal. “Is that so.” Not that she believes York would lie - she doesn’t hate him, she just really likes beating him and has for a long time - but because she suspects North left him here for her to find, like a stray she should take in and feed.

She watches him fight off a shiver. The only thing worse than North setting this up in some plan to get her to loosen up on their intense rivalry is that it’s working.

Carolina gently nudges him to the side - he seems to be especially cold, and reluctant to move away - as she utters “gesta non verba” and watches his reaction from the corner of her eye as the wall shudders and reveals the door. York steps back only as long as the dungeon wall moves, blue eyes blinking with surprise, and as soon as all is still he resumes his leaning.

“Glad no one’s opened the door since I’ve been here. I might have fallen in,” he jokes.

“Might have hit your head, too,” she replies coolly but not unkindly, drawn into conversation inexorably despite her hand being on the latch. “What a shame that would have been.”

York laughs, brief and clear, and leans his head against the stone. “Glad to hear you’d miss me at your heels,” he teases. And that strikes some kind of nerve in her, and Carolina decides all of a sudden that she doesn’t have to take care of any strays, thank you, and North should learn to keep his opinions of her relationships with her classmates to himself.

“I’ll get North for you,” she says archly, in a rush, and shuts the door on him.

Inside, her brother Church is curled up, sideways, in an armchair reading - he gives her the briefest of looks, but it’s enough to spike her suspicion.

“Where’s North?”

Church looks back down at his book and slouches. Or maybe shrugs. It’s hard to tell when he’s practically pretzeled around his book

“Where is he, Church?”

One of the third-years, Washington, looks up from his game of Wizard Chess. “Um, I think was in the showers?”

Carolina storms down the hall, leaving behind the fading sound of Washington’s dismay and the distinctive crunch of a chess piece as she approaches the boy’s showers. Utterly fearless, she throws the doors open and shouts down the tile hallways.

“North!”

There’s a hiss, a yelp, and what sounds suspiciously like multiple people stumbling in the showers. She hears a few muttered expletives but most importantly, North’s nervous “yes?”

“York’s lurking around outside waiting for you. Go get him before his precious Hufflepuff sensibilities get offended by the dungeons. Or he catches cold.”

“I’m kind of… busy at the moment?” North offers shyly. And then, a voice she doesn’t recognise that sounds carefully disguised pipes in with “if you’re worried about him, go let him in the common room!”

Carolina freezes and waits a moment too long to refute that statement. “Fine. But you better hurry up with… whatever you’re doing in there, North.”

“I’m showering?” he replies, voice almost breaking from stress and confusion, and she slams the door as she exits.

Her shoes squeal faintly and wetly on the wood floor as Carolina stalks back through the common room, ignoring Washington (who waves) and Church (who snorts into his book) and throws open the door to the dungeons. York jumps satisfactorily, and she holds the door open.

“In,” she barks, and York hesitates. “Do you want in or not?” Carolina pushes, jerking the door back and forth. Inside, Church cackles; without breaking York’s startled-deer eye contact, she reaches for her wand.

“Sure,” and the Hufflepuff creeps in, stiff-shouldered and watching her with wariness that fades fast into curiosity. “Oh, hey Wash.”

“York! Wanna help me against Florida in chess?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s very fair,” York starts, and just that easily he’s making himself at home in their common room, picking his way carefully through the dark furniture. “Two against one?”

“I won’t stop you if you want to join in. More the merrier,” Florida adds, his voice a honeyed purr. Thus settled, Carolina sets herself in the chair nearest Church (keeping him in kicking range) and spends the next several minutes spectating the chess game from behind her Potions homework.


End file.
